Chapter 8
Returning to Baker Street, Sherlock thought about his entire investigation, and mostly about Baronet Thomas Sharpe. He was more of a mystery to him than any case, and than John, who he still wasn't sure what his intention was. Nor was he sure of Thomas's intentions, since the documentation described him very differently than he had the chance to know. That same evening, he also decided to accept the baronet's invitation. He had to admit that his invitation sounded entirely sincere as if he didn't want to leave, but for his sister's sake, he had to.
Why didn't his sister leave alone? What was so important and secret that they had to leave so quickly? What was she whispering to him? So many questions and so much more swirling in his head, and he had no answer to any of them. Though he may have suspected the cause of their quick departure. From his vantage point, the baronet seemed to have no idea who he was, but his sister must have found out and dragged him away before revealing anything to them that would compromise them...
The following day, a little afternoon, the detective got into a cab and was driven to the baronet. After more than an hour and a half, he finally got a view of the mansion, which stood on a slight rise. The cabman dropped him off at the gate of the property, on which was inscribed, Allerdale Hall. But there was another name for the place in the police file. Crimson Peak, or Purple Hill. He might have thought that the place had a name for that clay, but there was also the possibility that the place had acquired the nickname in another way.
Sherlock adjusted his suit and walked through the gate. Everything was very quiet, except for the extraordinary cawing of the crows that were here. On the way to the house, he passed a large machine that he thought was the revolutionary product that the baronet at the bank was talking about. He had to admit, now that he had seen it with his own eyes, it was truly magnificent.
He gave it another look before heading back to the house. The house itself was large and impressive. But if the baronet had not personally invited him, he would have said that the place had been abandoned for several years. The house, while magnificent, was decaying. Already from outside, the roof could be seen collapsing in the main part of the building. Some of the bags were fallen on the ground, and the overcast sky with the black clouds did not add to the impression that the place was deserted. Some might find this place both spooky to look at and certainly creepy. But not to Sherlock. He wasn't interested in that sort of thing. He wondered what was going on behind these walls and what secrets they were hiding.
He walked to the door, where he used a knocker that looked as old as the rest of the house. He knocked exactly three times, waiting for someone to open the door. He could hear footsteps clearly from behind the door, and he didn't miss a fleeting movement behind the curtain in the next window. After the move, he could hear a woman's voice, which sounded rather irritated.
“...How could you think of inviting him here?!” she reproached her brother. The baronet said something back, but Sherlock couldn't quite hear what, since his voice was perfectly calm and the walls muffled his words.
„What if he finds out? You know we'll have to get rid of him then!” said Lucille, apparently unaware that the detective had heard her.
„It won't happen. I believe him,” the baronet replied, and it was clear he was walking toward the door.
„Suit yourself,” the sister snapped, her angry footsteps fading.
When there was a kind of peace in the house, a door finally opened in front of Sherlock, where he was greeted by a nice-looking Thomas Sharpe.
„I'm very honoured that you came. I honestly didn't expect you to accept my request,” the baronet said, taking his hand and, as at the party, kissing it. Sherlock had no idea why, but he could feel his ears burning and he had no idea at the time how to react properly. He thought immediately of Watson and how he had been more reserved than the Baronet. It was a change for him. Although in a nice way.
„I couldn't refuse such an invitation to get out of London,” he said, after clearing his throat weakly to find his voice.
„Please come in and watch your step, please, as the ceiling here is slightly crumbled and occasionally bits fall off,” he invited. Sherlock followed the Baronet inside and had to admit that it looked like the outside.
If Thomas hadn't invited him here, he would have said the place had been abandoned for a long time. It was dark and cold here, and only a few lamps illuminated it like wandering ghosts. Thomas led Sherlock across the hall to the living room, where there was a piano, two armchairs, a table, a blazing fireplace, and several paintings on the walls.
One painting included a portrait of the Sharpe family. Including Thomas, Lucille and their parents. In this painting, the children were still young, but even here Holmes did not miss one specific detail. In this painting, Thomas could have been about 5 or 6 years old. But he had dark brown hair like Sherlock himself, and his eyes were as blue as forget-me-nots or the sea itself. But Thomas, standing beside him, had hair as black as coal, and his eyes shone as green as two emeralds. Another mystery into a case called Thomas Sharpe.
„Please make yourself comfortable,” the baronet said, sitting down in one of the chairs. Sherlock followed him and also sat down.
„May I offer you a drink?” he asked, like a proper host.
„I won't refuse a cup of tea,” he replied, scanning the room once more. There was nothing but the eerie atmosphere. Although it won't be as spooky an atmosphere as grim an atmosphere.
„It's been like this for as long as I can remember,” he said as if sensing what the detective was thinking.
„It doesn't feel very welcoming,” he admitted.
„But it's home... all we have left of our parents.”
„I completely understand,” he said, about to add something, as Lucille came into the room with a tray of tea. She had cups of tea ready, a kettle steaming and a small unobtrusive sugar bowl to match the set.
„Sugar?” she asked Sherlock. Thomas didn't seem to be sweetening.
„Two dice. Thank you,” the detective said dispassionately, seeming to pay no attention to Lucille but watching her every move. She was his most suspect.
„Have a good time. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she smiled as she sweetened Sherlock's tea and left. Sherlock took a cup of tea, stirred it, and sniffed it. An ordinary person wouldn't notice, but he would. The tea was poisoned. He noticed signs of aconite with trace amounts of durman. Aconite is harmless in small doses, but fatal in large quantities. Sherlock put the cup to his mouth and merely pretended to drink the tea.
„Otherwise, the machine in front of the house, that's what you were going to take out a loan for?” the detective asked.
„Exactly.”
„And how did you do? I'm sure you've made an impression,” he smiled.
„So it seems. Luck smiled on me. Now I can just finish the machine and start paying back,” he replied positively.
„I'm glad. I have to admit, it actually looks a lot more interesting than in reduced form,” he said.
„I'm very flattered, but I'm not sure I'll be able to walk it off. No matter what I do, even when I start it, the engine overheats and I have to start again. I don't know what's wrong,” he sighed.
„If you don't mind, I could help you with the machine. I know a bit about it,” he offered.
„That's very kind of you. I'll get the plans,” he smiled and left the room.
Sherlock was left alone. He decided to seize the opportunity. He got up, poured the tea into one of the flowers to improve the room's appearance, but it didn't help much. He hastily searched the room but found nothing special to help him. No clues to lead him to Edith. He glanced down the corridor. He saw nothing. Upstairs, he thought he saw Lucille, but this figure was slightly larger, scrawnier, and wore a red, ragged dress that reminded him of a wedding dress. The figure turned in place and walked through the wall. Holmes turned instead and returned to his chair. Apparently, his mind was playing tricks on him, for there was no way to explain it.
Thomas was still not returning, so the detective decided to investigate the tea service Lucille had brought. He examined the kettle first, finding no signs of poison. So the tea was clean. It couldn't have been in the cups. That left only the sugar bowl. He took a lump of sugar, but he couldn't determine anything that way. Besides, he didn't even have time to do it. There was a special pocket in his coat, and he took out a small pouch, put the sugar in it, and hid it again in his coat.
He sat back in his chair just as the baronet returned, a roll of paper curled in his hand. He put them in a chair, set the tea service aside, and spread the blueprint on the table. The plan described in detail and drew a machine that stood outside. The two men leaned over the plan and examined it closely. Sherlock had to admit the plan was amazing. It's revolutionary. Together, they managed to fine-tune a few details that should improve the machine and perhaps finally get it working.
Together they spent about two hours on the plans before finally sitting back in their chairs and just talking about everything. Finally, it was time to say goodbye. Thomas walked the detective to the door.
„Looks like the cab is already here. Thank you for your visit. I had a great time today,” Thomas said pleasantly.
„Thank you for the invitation, Mr Sharpe. It was very... pleasant here. Happy to help you with the machine,” Sherlock replied.
„Please, call me Thomas. If you don't mind, we don't have to be so formal,” he smiled.
„Sure, Sherlock to you.”
„Sherlock, I'd be honoured if you'd visit me again when you're in the mood. Until then, goodbye,” and kissed his hand again.
„I hope you don't mind if it's tomorrow, for example?” he asked.
„I'd like that,” he replied, and with that, they parted at last.
Thomas went back to the house, where Lucille was waiting for him with an empty cup.
„Looks like he's not that smart for a famous detective. An empty cup. He drank it. If his visits continue, we'll simply get rid of him. Good job, little brother,” she said with a wicked smile.
„What if he notices? After a while, Edith noticed it, too,” he said worriedly.
„Then you'd better stop inviting him in. If you don't watch him, I'm going to have to step in,” she threatened before going into the kitchen to do the dishes.
Thomas merely sighed in defeat and went into the living room, leaving the plans for the machine. He was winding them up and about to leave for his study when he noticed wet dirt in one of the flowers. He was sure they hadn't been watered since Edith. The flower was placed right next to the chair the detective was sitting in. He knew immediately what had happened, and he was happy about it. He was very sympathetic to the detective and would hate to lose him. He hastily tidied up his plans before returning downstairs, pouring water into a container and going to water the rest of the plants. He had to make sure his sister didn't find out. If it works, he'll be able to save at least one person he's ever grown attached to.